


October prompts: Terms of endearment

by theonetruenorth



Series: October writing prompts 2020 [23]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Flufftober, Humor, M/M, October writing prompts 2020, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetruenorth/pseuds/theonetruenorth
Summary: Paul took all the rules, burned them to a crisp and danced on the ashes.Daryl didn’t know what to do with him, anymore.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Jesus
Series: October writing prompts 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948783
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50





	October prompts: Terms of endearment

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read.  
> First ever fic in TWD fandom. Don't bite, please.

It’s… not what Daryl expected.

The thing about relationships, at least in Daryl’s experience, was that most of the time it’s a sort of give-and-take. You give the other person something they wanted from you, only to receive something in return. If you stopped giving then inevitably the other person leaves. Simple math. An equivalent exchange. Sure, there were exceptions, but most relationships - either with friends, siblings or romantic partners - followed the same pattern. And that was fine. It meant that everyone knew what was expected of them. Everyone knew the rules and played along and that was more than enough.

But Paul took all the rules, burned them to a crisp and danced on the ashes.

Daryl didn’t know what to do with him, anymore.

Ever since they actually got together, since they graduated from the _‘I’m willing - you’re willing - let’s fuck’_ stage into _‘oh by the way, I love you, I think’_ phase of their relationship, Paul has been consistently fucking with Daryl’s expectations.

It started slowly. An extra blanket thrown over his shoulders while he stood on watch at night. A squeaky toy for Dog. A large pack of those gummy bear candies that were already nearly rock-hard with age still but good enough to eat - he liked to slowly chew them whenever he needed a smoke and cigarettes were sparse.

Paul didn’t expect anything in return. It grated on Daryl’s nerves, it really did. He did his best to pay him back, but whatever he did, it always felt inadequate. Like he could never live up to the gentleness and thoughtfulness that was so uniquely Paul’s.

And then came the names.

Daryl _still_ didn’t know what to call Paul. He supposed ‘boyfriend’ was the right term, but it sounded so fucking juvenile, like he was a teenage girl that drew hearts in her notebook, with ‘Mr. and Mrs. Rovia’ scribbled all over the page. ‘Lover’ was even worse - they lived in a shitty version of a post-apo movie, not a rom-com, for fuck’s sake. ‘Partner’ didn’t fit him either. What kind of partner were they talking about? A partner in crime? 

(That one, at least, wouldn’t be so far from the truth.)

And Paul, the asshole, only laughed when Daryl told him about this one evening. Daryl made him pay for that, though the punishment wasn’t really a punishment when Paul enjoyed it too much.

But yeah, the names. Paul started dropping pet names on him, a different one every day, watching his reactions. So far Daryl loathed roughly 99.9% of them and Paul used that to his advantage, coming up with more and more ridiculous ones each day. Daryl let things like ‘muffin’, ‘honey cakes’ and ‘sweet cheeks’ slide with nothing more than an eye-roll (and maaaaaaybe a somewhat-too-strong slap on the ass while they passed each other) but absolutely drew a line at ‘schnookums’. The epic fight that followed was still a cautionary tale that circled around in the community like a bad urban legend.

Nicknames were a thing Daryl did. But Paul already had a nickname, no point in changing that. Besides, there was a certain satisfaction in calling Paul by his real name when literally no one else did. It was something just for them and Daryl really liked that.

Sometimes, though, when they were alone and lying in bed, snuggled together under three blankets because the temperature in Paul’s trailer was barely above ass-freezing, Paul called him different names. Names meant for his ears only. Private names. Secret ones, that only they knew. Names like ‘gorgeous’ and ‘darling’ and ‘love’. Names that no one has ever called Daryl before.

Paul didn’t play by the rules.

But somehow, in quiet moments like that - as close as they could get, snuggled together for warmth and trading soft kisses under the blankets - Daryl found himself not really caring that much.


End file.
